Luck and Skill
by Sappho's Ghost
Summary: Brittany and Santana play a little game called "Too Hot". g!p warning. Pure smut.


**A/N: Smut ahead. I had an itch for g!p, so here, have some. Zero substance, lots of sex. Don't like it? Don't read it. :)**

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><p>They're in bed. It's a Tuesday, just like every other Tuesday. There's homework spread out in front of them, but—just like every other Tuesday—it's left unfinished.<p>

Brittany is sitting on Santana's thighs, lips pressed to her neck while Santana turns her head away, biting her tongue. Her hands are above her head, fingers stretched out then clasped into fists, again and again. She's not allowed to touch. She'll lose the game.

She's really not fond of losing.

So she sits, back against her headboard and legs extended out beneath Brittany's weight, feeling her shorts tighten as lips skim the curve of her jaw up to her ear. She gnaws the inside of her cheek as teeth find her lobe, and she feels Brittany's hot breath in her ear.

"I'll make you come so hard," she whispers. "I'll ride you until you blow. All you have to do… is _lose_."

The offer is tempting. But the satisfaction it would give Brittany—knowing that she had such control—isn't something Santana is willing to give. Yet.

Brittany's hands are behind her head, interlaced in her hair, holding it back from her face. She pulls back and smirks, waiting for Santana to make a move. It usually works by now, the dirty talk. Teasing isn't something her girlfriend abides very easily before she caves and fucks Brittany senseless. But tonight something is different. Santana smirks back, not angry or frustrated, and only a little flushed as Brittany's core grinds not-so-innocently against the bulge rising between them.

Her girlfriend doesn't say anything, just flexes her hands again and smiles, lifting her hips to meet Brittany's as they press down. Two can play this game.

"You're getting better at this," Brittany says, but Santana catches the little hitch in her voice as she ruts up particularly hard. "Maybe one of these days I'll let you win."

The grinding of Santana's teeth practically echoes through the room. "Maybe one of these days I'll stop letting _you_ win…"

A little snort escapes Brittany's throat. She leans in again and sweeps her tongue across Santana's lips, which part on instinct, letting her in. She crawls, hands still laced behind her head, until her stomach is pressed hard against Santana's, their cores tight and hot. She can feel the outline of her girlfriend's cock through the thin material of their shorts, twitching and straining against her. She can't stop herself from swallowing hard as Santana cants roughly up into her, using the headboard for leverage so her hands stay hovering in the air above her head.

She's wet. Wetter than she's been in a game of Too Hot in a very long time. Mostly because they've never really made it this far without Santana giving in, using her hands to spin them and pin Brittany beneath her. But Brittany is still straddling her, using every trick she knows from her stripperobics class to get Santana hard without actually touching her with her hands. She's gyrating now, pressing herself down on Santana's erection and whining into her mouth as she slips her tongue in and out.

Santana, despite the fact that her shorts have never been tighter, doesn't waver. With Brittany's body writhing above her, she's uncomfortable, sure. Frustrated and grunting with the effort of keeping her hands to herself, she's fucking _tortured_. Because keeping her hands off a body like Brittany's isn't something she _wants_ to do.

But fuck, if she isn't sick of losing.

So she arches her back, pushing her mouth up into Brittany's and forcing her back a little, enough so that she sits back on Santana's knees and nearly topples backward. She lets out a little shriek into Santana's mouth, and her hands come out from behind her head to steady herself. She almost grabs Santana's shoulder, but stops herself when she sees what she's doing. Santana lets out a satisfied grunt, tongue lancing deeper into Brittany's mouth. She can feel the wet patch between her girlfriend's legs rubbing against her thigh, hot and slick and so ready for her. She stifles her groan long enough to press forward again, and Brittany leans back to accommodate.

"You think I can't feel how bad you want me?" she hisses, mouth moving away from Brittany's lips, across her cheek and down her neck. "You're so wet for me, babe. You want me buried eight inches deep inside you, don't you?"

She bites hard on the skin at Brittany's clavicle, getting only a pathetic whimper in response.

"You can dish it out but you can't take it?" Another bite, on the other side, another whimper. "Tell me how much you want me inside you, baby. You know you want to…"

Brittany's losing the upper hand, and she knows it. She grinds harder, shifting so her pelvis can rut again and again against the straining erection beneath her. Santana moans, but laughs, and her face goes hot from her cheeks to the tips of her ears as the bulge connects directly with her clit hidden behind the cloth of her shorts. A flood releases from within her and she buries her nose in Santana's hair to stop herself from screaming.

"Fuck…" she mumbles into dark locks. "Fuck, Santana… baby, please. I need you so fucking bad..."

A dark snicker stops the biting at her chest, and a low rumble creeps up Santana's throat. "You know what you have to do then, baby…"

There's a hesitation, followed by another sharp thrust of Santana's hips, before Brittany's hands are wrapped around the back of her neck, pulling her in and trapping their lips together. Already panting breaths become labored as Santana rips the shirt from Brittany's body and wraps one strong arm around her girlfriend's waist before flipping them. She presses her pelvis into Brittany's molten center, burying her face in between perfect breasts and rutting hard and fast.

"Please…" Brittany begs, feeling the friction and shuddering at how close she is already.

"Say it," Santana commands, biting hard on the taut flesh of her right breast. "Say it, baby."

A yelp and a sob and Brittany is nodding, eyes squeezed shut. "You win, you win. God, fuck, you win, Santana. _Fuck me._"

She's up on her knees and pulling the shorts from Brittany's legs before Brittany can finish the sentence, lifting one of the girl's legs up and throwing her calf over her shoulder before shoving her own boxers down, not bothering to take them off. They're too far gone for that now.

Her erection breaks free and she groans, taking it in her hand and squeezing the base hard to keep herself from coming at the sight of Brittany trembling beneath her, legs spread, skin glistening, chest heaving. She presses the swollen, leaking head to Brittany's opening, parting dripping folds but not pushing forward. The girl beneath her whines in frustration, canting her hips up to fill that emptiness she's feeling, but Santana pulls back, and locks eyes.

"Say it." She bends down, the underside of her cock finding Brittany's clit as she does, making her whimper. Her hips buck, teasing Brittany further, using the girl's own juices to slick her length.

"You win, baby," Brittany responds, confused and needy, arching and scraping at Santana's back, her nails digging in to try and pull her down. "You win, I told you."

Santana shakes her head. "Not that. Say it."

Something snaps and the hands on her back ease their desperate scratching to come to the back of Santana's head and pull her down for a long, deep kiss. When they part, Brittany's forehead presses against Santana's.

"I love you, Santana," she whispers, light blue eyes wide and willing and honest.

One quick thrust, and Santana sheaths herself inside her girlfriend, groaning as she bottoms out and Brittany throws her head back. Santana places short, peppered kisses on her long, exposed neck, hands flat on either side of her head to support herself as she waits for Brittany to get used to the stretch of her girth. The leg not over Santana's shoulder extends around her back and pulls her deeper, hard, making them both groan, and Santana buries her nose in Brittany's sternum.

"_Fuck me,_" comes in a desperate hiss from above her head, and Santana can do nothing but obey.

Her thrusts begin slow, pulling out and pushing back in shallowly until the tension from the leg around her lower back brings her deeper, faster. Tiny whimpers escape Santana's mouth that are no competition for the throaty, satisfied moans that Brittany releases, a smile spread across her face as she grinds up while Santana bucks down.

Even after years of this, it's a tight fit for Santana's long, thick shaft. She can feel everything as she cants in and out, one hand coming around Brittany's leg to thumb her clit in time with the pounding. She can feel how hot she is, deep within. How wet she gets when Santana turns her head and bites down gently on the inside of the thigh next to her face. How she arches higher, how her moans turn to muffled shrieks, when she hits that one ridged spot near Brittany's cervix.

But, after all this time, she knows how to tap that spot once… twice… three times…

And Brittany comes undone, nails digging into Santana's neck and yanking her close so she can scream into her girlfriend's mouth as she comes. She rides the shock waves, her hips undulating again and again as Santana feels a rush of heat and slickness over her cock, still buried, and the grip around her that pulls her so deep that she can't hold back anymore, and she follows. A sharp thrust and her teeth come down on Brittany's lower lip, the two of them grunting together as Santana empties herself inside, letting the last of Brittany's orgasm milk her of everything she has to give.

The leg falls from Santana's shoulder, and she's allowed to collapse fully on top of Brittany. Her hips stay nestled between Brittany's thighs, the two of them breathing heavy as they enjoy the sensation of being spent together, of still being connected until Santana softens fully and pulls out. Half the pleasure, she thinks, is watching her seed leak from Brittany's body. It's nearly enough to bring her to hardness again as she sits up and back on her heels, palming her limp, come-slick member with one hand while she uses her thumb to play with the whiteness between her lover's legs.

Brittany knows what Santana's doing, and she groans at the hand between her legs.

"You won already," she teases, closing her legs and feeling the glorious ache of her muscles as she pulls Santana down on top of her again. "Don't push your luck."

"Luck?" Santana questions, bringing her thumb to Brittany's lips and grunting softly as she licks Santana's come from it. "This is a game of skill, babe. I won fair and square. No luck needed."

Brittany swipes her tongue across her lips and kisses Santana, making her taste herself in Brittany's mouth, only to feel Santana begin to swell again, pressed between their bodies.

"It's called 'getting lucky' for a reason," she replies, her legs spreading again to allow Santana to settle between them gently. Santana's head rests on Brittany's chest, ear pressed to her breast as she listens to her heartbeat slow. Brittany's runs her fingers through her hair, and she sighs, adjusting her hips and pushing her length in slowly before she lifts her head to smile.

"Then I guess I'm the luckiest girl in the world."


End file.
